


'Cuz Shade Never Made Anybody Less Gay

by livelyvague



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Drinking, Fights, First Time Blow Jobs, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21795967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livelyvague/pseuds/livelyvague
Summary: David, Patrick, Alexis and Stevie all go out after the opening of Rose Apothecary. An altercation happens that allows Patrick and David to get closer.
Relationships: Alexis Rose & David Rose, Patrick Brewer & Alexis Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose, they all hang out you get the point
Comments: 86
Kudos: 322
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	'Cuz Shade Never Made Anybody Less Gay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wildxwired](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildxwired/gifts).



> there is a slight homophobic interaction that sets the conflict into motion, it's not violent or graphic. there are descriptions of blood.
> 
> shout out to those who helped me edit this literally last minute & my twitter followers who heard me complain about me procrastinating. title from "you need to calm down" by Taylor Swift.

“I’m exhausted,” David exhales loudly. 

“From all of the extensive light and electrical work you had to do? Oh, wait, that was me!” Patrick laughs, but really he wants to _scream_ at the lights for flickering earlier when there are far more important things he could be doing—like staying in David’s arms. 

“Okay,” David says, scrunching up his nose. “Clearly whatever _you_ spent hours on didn’t even work, so, is it _really_ my fault?”

“Yes,” Patrick teases and David rolls his eyes, “and I’ll call the electrician tomorrow.”

David smirks and just nods his head, hands resting on his hips. He looks so beautiful that Patrick actually wants to _cry,_ because David is the kind of beautiful you don’t ever get used to. It knocks you out every time that you look at him. He’s beautiful and maybe Patrick’s even more than a little in love with him after their hug tonight.

All Patrick wants is to feel David’s chest against his again. He was stronger than Patrick imagined, but even warmer than he was hoping for. To pull away from that hug, look into David’s eyes and go in for a kiss was all Patrick wanted to happen. Then the fucking _lights_ happened. The lights he indeed _did_ spend hours on trying to wire. All of that work and still Patrick hasn’t gotten to kiss David. 

He could just ask him out, right now. Except that David said he’s exhausted. Patrick is tired too, if he’s being honest. It’s been a long day—been a long few _months,_ really. And okay, yes, the past 32 years have felt like an absolute century and all that time felt a little useless and wasted because he wasn’t with David. So, Patrick could ask him out, but not really. The moment is gone and Patrick is probably imagining the connection between them, it could be completely one-sided. David is the first man that Patrick has ever had conscious, heart-crushingly real feelings for. He doesn’t know how to act on them or if he’ll _ever_ be able to. Patrick will file away the way that David felt against him for when he’s lonely at night. He feels honored to be David’s business partner and that is enough for Patrick. It _has_ to be enough.

“Knock, knock!” Stevie says, walking into the store with Alexis trailing a little behind her.

“We’re closed, guys. You missed a _very_ successful opening day,” Patrick says proudly, looking at David to see his smile. 

“Adorable, Patrick,” Alexis says. “But I already got a very cute little. . . pen stick thing. . . from Ted, so. We’re here to take you boys out.”

“Yeah, we’re just so. . . happy for you,” Stevie says straight-faced. 

“You just want to get drunk?” David asks. Stevie grimaces a little and nods, while Alexis shakes her head quickly and hums a ‘yes.’ “Okay, well, we’re kind of tired. Running a business is a lot of _work_ , Alexis.”

“David,” she warns. “I’m going _through_ something. Okay, did you hear what I said? Ted gave me a pen, okay, what do I do with that?”

“Hmm,” David ponders, head tilting adorably. “Write with it? Stab yourself?”

Before Alexis can counter back, Patrick interrupts. “I’d be okay with going. We did just open a store, David. That’s cause for celebration, right?”

Alexis and Stevie look at David expectantly, waiting for him to agree. Patrick may be tired, but his constant desire to be with David is winning out by far. 

“Fine,” David acquiesces. “Are you sure what you’ve agreed to?” David whispers to Patrick, who just laughs. 

They all end up piling into Stevie’s car and driving to the Wobbly Elm. Patrick sits in the backseat with David while Alexis is in the front taking control of the aux cord. David and Alexis’ music taste is unsurprisingly similar—she’s blasting a mix of female pop icons and singing along sort of in tune. Stevie’s backseat is more than a little overrun with clothes, water bottles, books and other random items that have no right to be in a car. Patrick is thankful for the mess, as it makes the backseat a tight fit and so his thigh is pressing right against David’s. His muscles are starting to hurt from keeping so still, refusing his own body’s wants to completely melt into David. Even though that sounds heavenly, he’s not sure David wants that in the backseat of Stevie Budd’s messy car—or even if he wants that at all. 

“We’re here, kids,” Stevie jokes, slamming the car door and locking it behind them. 

As they walk into the bar, Patrick fully realizes the situation he has gotten himself into. This is the first time he’s been out with David this late and it’s not for work. It’s completely new territory. It’s _after hours_ David and Patrick. He needs a drink, something to busy his hands and his mouth. When he’s around David, it’s like his hands gravitate towards him, wanting to touch and hold and feel him. They sit down at the bar and he feels the pleasant weight of David’s knee pressing against his again. Patrick could easily slide a hand down and place it on his knee. Or thigh. Oh god, he needs a drink. Thankfully, Alexis has the same idea and immediately orders a round of shots for the whole group.

“To Rose Apothecary,” Stevie says. David and Patrick share a small smile, before clinking their shot glasses together. 

“To Rose Apothecary,” they say together and then down their shots. 

“To Ted’s pen,” Alexis says to herself, taking another shot. 

“Okay, calm down, drinky,” Stevie mutters, then turns her attention to David and Patrick. “So, how’s it feel? Big time business right here in our very own Schitt’s Creek.”

“Well, I don’t know about big time business,” David clarifies. “It’s simply a quaint locally-owned safe space.”

“It feels great,” Patrick says, taking a swig from his beer he ordered for himself. His hands and mouth are successfully preoccupied. 

“Good for you, guys, _really,_ ” Alexis says, sounding vaguely condescending. 

“Okay, ignore her,” Stevie complains. “She’s lost in Ted-Town.”

Patrick laughs and drinks some more. “What happened?”

Alexis declares that everyone needs more alcohol in them to tell the entire Ted saga—which they already know, except Patrick, but he’s excited to hear about the people in David’s life—so they do two more rounds of shots and polish off their individual drinks. Once she feels fit, she tells them all about the ‘friend’ kisses and pen-giving and heartbreak right outside of Rose Apothecary. Stevie rolls her eyes while David laughs and Patrick just feels plain bad for the girl. 

Suddenly, Patrick is _really feeling_ the alcohol, he knows his cheeks are pink and eyes are a little glassy. He feels good, though. He likes Stevie and is delighted to know he’s in on Alexis drama firsthand, not just coming from David’s point of view. Seeing David with his best friend and sister away from work feels so intimate for some reason. He’s making fun of Alexis and razzing Stevie and he has the best laugh in the entire universe. David’s hair is getting just a little messy, from touching it and the heat from the crowded bar. He still looks just as beautiful—maybe even more—and Patrick still thinks he might cry. 

“Okay, let’s play a game!” Alexis yelps. “Never have I ever.”

They all begrudgingly agree and then Patrick is suddenly feeling just a little left out. They all have their inside jokes and are asking the exact right questions to get someone to drink. Patrick’s only taken a few drinks—one about smoking weed which has Stevie laughing and another about having sex in public that leaves David looking at him with a smirk. There’s a few more rounds of questions, most of which are from Alexis and Stevie trying to target David. Everyone’s laughing and everyone’s pretty fucking plastered at this point. The feeling of being left out leaves quickly, Patrick joining in on targeting David. They’re all friends, they’re all _actual_ friends and that realization makes Patrick want to rejoice in the middle of this bar.

“Okaaay,” Stevie slurs. “One more!” Everyone pours a shot and gets ready. Patrick’s stomach is starting to churn with all the mixing of alcohol and is really hoping he has never done what Stevie is about to say. “Never have I ever. . . fantasized about a coworker?” 

Patrick freezes and if he had anything in his mouth, he would be doing a comically large spit take right about now. Stevie looks mischievous, like she knows _exactly_ what she’s doing. Patrick can’t tell if that makes him feel better or worse. He’s still panicking while Alexis is already taking a shot. Then—oh god. David raises his shot glass and puts it to his lips, shooting back the liquor with his eyes locked on Patrick. Patrick swallows, then does the same. 

Stevie’s talking and Alexis is laughing, holding onto her arm. Patrick isn’t talking or breathing or even existing anymore. The tension breaks, the air fills back in his lungs and he feels goddamn _giddy._

“Okay, I gotta be at the motel in the morning. I gotta gooo,” Stevie says. 

“No, no, don’t leave me,” Alexis pouts. Stevie pets the top of her head and gives Alexis an annoyed, endearing look for the 27th time that night. 

“I called an Uber, I’ll take you back,” she promises. “Boys?”

Patrick looks at David and wishes with everything in him the night will continue. “Um—”

“We’re good,” David finishes for him. “More celebrations to be had!” 

Booze haze or not, there’s a twinkle in David’s eyes that Patrick can see. He manages to peel his eyes away from David and takes Stevie and Alexis out to the car to make sure they leave safely. When he returns to David, the energy has changed. There’s a shift. It’s not just the alcohol talking anymore.

“So,” he says. 

“So,” David says, handing him another beer. His mouth is twisting up at the side and his hair seems more kept from when Patrick left him at the bar. And he’s a fucking vision. “Ordered you another one.”

“Thank you. Not a beer man?” Patrick gestures down to his empty hands. 

“No, cannot say that I am a beer man,” David laughs. “Plus, maybe one of us should be somewhat sober?”

“I am sober as a judge!”

“Okay, mmh,” David nods his head and that smirk just won’t seem to leave his face, not that Patrick is complaining. 

“I’m seriously very clear headed right now. Ask me anything—give me a calculus question to solve!”

“I couldn’t do that even if I was sober, so,” David says with a tilt of his head. Patrick smiles and the tips of his ears raise with the corners of his mouth. “Not sure I need you seeing me sloppy yet.”

“Sloppy?” Patrick questions, leaning forward into David’s space before he can even help it. It’s warm next to him, that’s all. 

“You know, dancing on tables, singing, maybe some crying,” David says. “Staggering into some bathroom stall with a guy I barely know. All very sloppy.”

Patrick’s eyes widen and he takes another swig of his beer, lips curling around the bottle and he doesn’t miss the way David’s eyes flicker down. “Bathroom stall,” he repeats.

“Mmh,” David hums—and did he just look down at Patrick’s mouth again? “Just to name a few.”

There’s a silence between the two, but it’s filled with the pounding of the music and the conversation all around them. Patrick can’t stop looking at him, he doesn’t care anymore either, so he keeps staring. David looks so good, his face is glistening a little from the warmth in the bar and there’s one strand of hair dipping a little low that Patrick wants to get his hands on. He wants his hands everywhere on David—but he can’t, at least not right now. They’re facing each other on the stools, so Patrick scoots a little forward so his knees are touching David’s. He wants more, _needs_ more, so he rests his hand atop David’s knee like he wanted to do so badly earlier.

“You’re so good,” Patrick blurts out. David just looks at him with open eyes, equal parts confusion and amusement. “At the store. Owning it, um,” he stammers. “It’s just a very good business plan.”

David looks almost a little disappointed and Patrick panics that he said something really wrong, but then David’s face evens out into a perfect sweet smile. Patrick loves that smile, wants to kiss that smile. It’s good enough just to see it in front of him, in clear view, even through the tipsy haze. 

“Thank you, Patrick,” he says, voice laden with care and genuineness that Patrick doesn’t hear too often. Suddenly, a harsh voice breaks the perfect little bubble they have created between them.

“Okay, this is the Wobbly Elm, not the Dude Cave,” the guy spits out—clearly heavily intoxicated—and shoves against David to get to the front of the bar. 

“Excuse me?” Patrick asks, clearly offended and a little confused. 

“The gay bar right outside of town,” David supplies. Patrick feels and looks distraught, his red face scrunching up. He’s embarrassed and _pissed._ The guy is waiting to order his drink and is standing behind David, acting as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

“Hey,” Patrick calls out. The guy looks back at him and David just covers his face with his hands. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It _means_ people are trying to order drinks and you can have your gay rendevous in the back of the bar,” he says. Patrick _hates_ this guy—hates his voice and the way he’s looking at David and him. 

“Patrick, let’s just go. It’s been a long night,” David pleads, face red with embarrassment. 

“No, David. This is not okay. _This_ isn’t a. . . gay,” Patrick stutters on the last word, “‘rendevous’—we are out celebrating our opening day of a business, that this brilliant man you _ran_ into, created on his own.”

“Just trying to get my drink, man,” the guy replies, laughing to no one in particular. 

“Patrick, come on,” David says again, both of them are fully standing now. 

“No, David. You’re my friend.” David’s eyes go wide and his face softens. Patrick turns his attention to the rude, _homophobic_ guy and says, “Apologize to us.”

“Listen man—”

“Stop calling me that.” 

Patrick is _angry_ angry now. He was fucking elated two minutes ago, touching David and looking in his eyes and now there’s some guy in front of them ruining the entire night. Patrick wants David to feel safe with him, like being around him can be different from everyone else he’s been with. He knows that in David’s previous life he was met with a lot of pain and frankly a lot of _assholes_ who didn’t treat him the way he deserves. David didn’t and _doesn’t_ deserve _any_ of that, even though he insists otherwise. 

Yes, Patrick wants to kiss David—okay, he wants to do _much_ more than just kiss him—but more than anything he just wants him to be happy and safe. Two things that Patrick knows he _wasn’t_ before he came to Schitt’s Creek. Even if nothing ever comes between the two of them, Patrick will be here to defend him. 

“I’ve got my drink, man, I’m just gonna g—” Patrick’s rational, capable brain apparently goes out the fucking window and his arm starts flying before he can think twice or David can stop him. The guy, who is much larger _and_ taller than Patrick, immediately ducks out of the way which makes Patrick miss. He gets disoriented and loses his footing, stumbling forward and colliding against a table. 

David says, “Holy shit, Patrick!” at the same time Patrick screams, “Fuck!”

 _Instant pain._ But even worse—embarrassment. In trying to defend David’s honor, he completely missed and has just fucked up his face royally. He’s never punched someone before. Never been in any kind of physical altercation even in all those years of sports, but something just came over him. Something primal and something only David could conjure up in him. 

Patrick is still on the floor, clutching his bottom lip that’s bleeding all over him. He feels someone’s—David’s—hand on his back.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” David screeches out, panic showing on his face and clamoring through him. 

“Yeah,” Patrick says. He sits up and searches for the man but can’t see him anywhere. David senses that he’s looking for him and shakes his head.

“He um, left — but that’s probably for the best. Let’s get you up and out of here, Patrick,” David pleads. Patrick just nods and lets David’s strong hands he’s missed pull him up and guide him out of the bar. His lip is still bleeding and it’s _pulsing_ now, which is probably a horrible sign. He doesn’t do well with pain but he certainly will _not_ be letting David know that. 

“I– fuck. Patrick, it’s bleeding a lot,” David says when they get out into the parking lot. 

“It’s okay,” he says. Patrick is still trying to soothe David’s anxiety even as his face is bleeding. It was all for David, anyway. 

“I have to order an Uber. . . are you going to be okay?”

“It’s fine, David.”

Patrick thinks that it really is fine, because he got to feel David’s hands on his arms and his shoulders and he’s so close to him. He doesn’t want to be weak, except that he thinks he could collapse into David’s embrace and fall asleep with him petting his head and telling him he’s brave. It’s a stupid thought, but comforting nonetheless. Even David merely being beside him is dulling the pain. They stand by Stevie’s car while they wait for the Uber and David keeps looking over at Patrick, with some look he can’t begin to discern right now. 

It’s been a long night and even worse, they both seem to sober up immensely from the failed punch. Patrick’s head is throbbing alongside his split lip. Finally the Uber arrives and they clamber in together. David is sitting right beside him again, even though there’s plenty of room in the car. 

“Okay, um, I guess. . . I will — uh, see you tomorrow?” Patrick stutters out, once they pull up to Ray’s.

“Can I– I mean, I’ll walk you in. Help you with your lip?” David almost whispers. It’s late and he knows they both need sleep, especially since they have their second day of work tomorrow, but Patrick can’t help but selfishly lean into the moment. David wants to come inside and help him with his lip—whatever that means—and Patrick really can’t say no to that. 

“Yeah,” is all Patrick can say, nodding and trying not to smile—it’ll hurt his lip and he doesn’t want to blow his cover of _totally not_ being completely in love with David. Although, he ponders that the punching of someone in the middle of a bar for him might have already given that away. 

They walk up the porch, through the door and Patrick leads him up the stairs to the bathroom. It’s weirdly intimate, having to be quiet in his house, like they’re sneaking around. It sends a thrill up his spine. 

In the confined space of the bathroom, it feels like a million degrees. David is right beside him, looking into the mirror as their arms brush. They both go into action when they see Patrick’s blue button down that makes him look like he lost a fight with a bottle of ketchup. Before he can think better of it, he starts unbuttoning his bloodied shirt while David scavanges around Ray’s bathroom to find something to treat Patrick’s lip with. 

When David turns back around, Patrick is completely shirtless and bent over the sink, sticking his lip under the flow of the water. David clears his throat and Patrick stands back up again, almost hitting his head on the cabinet above him, and turns to David. 

“Um,” David swallows, eyes darting down and Patrick is _sure_ he’s looking at his chest. Goosebumps start to cover his skin and they both know it’s not because it’s cold. “I found this antibacterial cream.”

“Okay, uh, thank you.” He touches his lip again and hisses. “Fuck.”

David laughs to himself and says, “I didn’t know all I needed to do to get you let your guard down and start dropping F-bombs was have some guy make an offhand comment at a bar.”

“David,” Patrick’s face softens into something serious. “He — he was being. . . homophobic. It was horrible and you don’t deserve that.”

“It was to you, too, you know,” David points out, trying to make the situation feel lighter. Patrick flushes and shakes his head. 

“Well — yes, I know. We don’t deserve that.” Patrick’s heart flutters at the _we_ he just let slip. 

David shakes his head, seemingly being rendered speechless for a moment. He clears his throat and finally says, “Okay. Well, let me help you with your lip. It’s. . . the least I can do. You, well, you _tried_ to punch someone for me.” Patrick just laughs defeatedly. “Come on, sit.”

Patrick sits on the edge of the toilet and David situates himself in front of him. He runs a washcloth under the water and brings it to Patrick’s lip. He’s so close, Patrick can smell vodka and sweat and his cologne. He wants to lick the stripe of sweat that’s on his neck. 

David tilts Patrick’s jaw with one hand and uses his thumb to swipe across his split lit with his other hand. Patrick inhales sharply at the delicate touch and the burning sensation.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” David says. “Um, now that there’s less blood.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. . .” David trails off, thumb still pressed against Patrick’s lip. He looks down at Patrick, whose eyes are a little bleary but just as warm and loud as they usually are—even when he’s tipsy and coming down from the adrenaline of a bar fight. “I need to like, thank you? Um, really, thank you. You. . . fought someone for me.”

Patrick blushes, as if his cheeks could even get _any_ redder than they already are. “ _Tried_ to fight someone for you.”

“Whatever, semantics,” David flails. “But. . . no one has ever stood up for me like that.”

“Really? No crazy brawls between past lovers?” Patrick jokes, but his heart is racing. He _is_ different than anyone else David has been with. He can be so good, he just wants the chance to be. 

“Um, no. I’m not really a person anyone fights for — uh, I mean over. Fights over.”

“Well, I’ll always fight for you,” Patrick says. He’s genuinely worrying himself that he is going to spew out all of his feelings. He sucks on his bottom lip slightly, just to feel the sting of pain and bring himself back down to earth.

“Thank you, uh, that’s very generous,” he mumbles. “Here, let me put this on.”

David applies the anti-bacterial cream gently—too gently in Patrick’s opinion. David is looking at him and touching his lips and it’s too much. He’s standing in between Patrick’s thighs, his other hand clinging to Patrick’s shoulder. David’s thumb lingers on Patrick’s lip and across his jaw. Patrick’s breath catches as David leans down and presses a soft kiss against his bruising lip. It’s quick and his lip aches almost as much as his heart.

“This okay?” David whispers.

“Yes, yeah,” Patrick stutters out. He doesn’t hesitate or think about embarrassing himself anymore than he already has. Instead, he grabs a fistful of David’s sweater, pulls him back down and crashes their lips back together. It burns but then David’s tongue is swiping against the tender skin and into his mouth, so the burn is worth it. Feels good, even. 

Patrick’s bare skin is against the back of the cold porcelain and David’s warm hands are against his chest. It’s fucking magnificent, even if he was bleeding a mere 20 minutes ago, even if they’re making out for the first time on a toilet. Then David is kissing his neck, his chest, his stomach. David is sinking to his knees in front of him, which makes Patrick squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head to make sure he isn’t dreaming. 

“Let me thank you,” David says, pupils blown wide and palms splayed across Patrick’s thighs and inching upwards. Patrick is going to come in two fucking seconds, so he just whimpers in response and nods quickly. David makes quick work of unbuttoning Patrick’s tight jeans and yanking them down along with his boxers. Patrick curses himself slightly for wearing ugly underwear, not that he owns anything particularly sexy. It certainly doesn’t seem to phase David in the slightest because he’s immediately mouthing at Patrick’s tip, sucking softly and then licking down to the base. 

“Mmh,” Patrick moans softly. He wants to shout _holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck oh my god this is everything that I have ever wanted in my entire life, you are all that I have ever wanted in my entire life and I didn’t even let myself know how much I wanted you until this fucking moment. Destroy me, wreck me, I beg you,_ but he manages to stay silent. The burn of his lip feels nearly nonexistent as David wraps his lips around the head of Patrick’s cock and slides down slowly, bobbing his head and looking up through his eyelashes. 

A guttural noise rips through Patrick’s throat at the sight of his cock in David’s perfectly sloppy mouth. He brings his hand to the side of the sink and the other on the wall beside him, bracing tight and forcing himself not to thrust up or grab at David in the ways that he wants to. David goes deeper and is hollowing his cheeks and using one hand to jack the rest of Patrick’s length. And he’s fucking _humming_ around his cock now and somehow looking pleased through it all.

“David, fuck,” Patrick groans, the heat and suction of David’s mouth makes him completely oblivious to the fact that they’re still in the bathroom of Ray’s house and he’s sitting on a fucking toilet as David sucks his dick. It doesn’t matter. _This_ matters—David’s beautiful smile and soft voice when he thanked him and the fact that this is _finally_ happening. It’s real and not a dream anymore. It’s not a distant fantasy that he has to daydream about.

Patrick lets go of the wall and grabs a handful of David’s already messy hair and makes it worse. He can feel David swallow around him and he accidentally tugs. When he hears the moan come from David, he loses it. His abs tighten and his legs contract and he can’t keep the panting and moaning in anymore.

“I’m gonna come,” Patrick says as David is already sucking him through his orgasm. Patrick lies against the back of the cool porcelain, completely spent. David smiles and leans back on his heels, wiping his mouth and licking his lips. “I guess it _was_ a bit of a gay rendevous.”

They both laugh and David tucks Patrick back into his pants and pulls him up. Patrick’s legs feel gooey and so does his entire heart and soul. The normal half smirk on David’s face isn’t there anymore, it’s turned into something bigger and brighter. A full, real and beautiful smile. Patrick kisses and kisses and kisses him. 

“Thank you, David,” Patrick finally says. He looks ridiculous, he’s sure of it. Split lip, still shirtless and wrecked from the entire night. They kiss again, like they can’t possibly tear themselves away from each other. David tries to excuse himself at one point but Patrick just shakes his head and leads him into his room. They both strip down and entangle themselves together. David leaves one final delicate kiss to the wound on Patrick’s lip before they fall asleep in each other’s arms. 


End file.
